


Sessions

by LapfulofMisha



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, And Shameless Dick Jokes, Crack!Verse, M/M, No Smut, just crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-01
Updated: 2015-09-01
Packaged: 2018-04-18 12:05:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4705427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LapfulofMisha/pseuds/LapfulofMisha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sex Therapist Dick Roman has four new patients - three of whom are pining after the fourth.<br/>Crack!Verse. Shameless Dick jokes and terrible puns. Oh, and SEX THERAPIST DICK ROMAN.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sessions

Dick Roman scrolled through his tablet, taking a moment to admire his finely manicured nails. Glancing at his schedule, he saw that he had four new patients in a row scheduled for today. The office had hired a new scheduling manager who was obviously a moron. Something would have to be done about her.

A knock at his door was followed by the entrance of his lovely assistant. Now here was a model of efficiency. Not hard to look at either, with her dark hair swirling around her shoulders and her dark, intelligent eyes.

“Your first client is here, Dr. Roman.” She frowned at the clipboard she held in her hands. “His name is Mr. Crowley. He didn’t list a first name. He listed his phone number as 666. In the space for how to contact someone in case of an emergency, he wrote what appears to be phrases in . . . Latin?”

“Sounds like a fun guy. I’ll see him in room three.”

*****

Room three was a softly lit room with cerulean blue walls and dark grey furniture. Crowley refused to be seated in the cushy chair the nurse had offered. Instead he walked over to the wall to study the credentials of this sex therapist who claimed he could solve Crowley’s current sexual dilemma, a situation he was quite unused to. Oversized diplomas proclaimed that Dick Roman graduated with honors from a prestigious medical school. During his residency at someplace called Levi A. Thon Memorial Hospital, he had apparently instituted a program that treated eating disorders, before specializing in sexual and reproductive therapy. He had won numerous awards for his efforts and apparently had even written a bestseller. The framed cover of a medical magazine proclaimed that he was "One to Watch".

Crowley rolled his eyes. The guy sounded like a douche bag.

The door opened and Dr. Roman walked in carrying a tablet. _Great_ , thought Crowley. _He_ looks _like a douche bag, too._

“So, Mr. Crowley. It says here you seek help with unrequited love?”

“That’s right.”

“Well, have a seat and let’s get started.” Dick sat on the couch, leaving the chair for Crowley. Sighing, Crowley sat.

“Tell me about yourself, Mr. Crowley. What do you do for a living?”

Crowley considered. “You could say I’m in Management.”

“I see.” Dick tapped notes into his tablet. “Are you close to your parents?”

“My mother is a witch,” Crowley scowled.

Dick raised his eyebrows. “I see.” More notes. “Why not tell me about this, uh, friend of yours?”

Crowley sighed. “He won’t return my calls. He acts like he’s got some kind of demon inside him. And the only demon that should be inside him is-!” Crowley stopped mid-tirade, noticing Dick rising from his chair. “Not an actual demon, of course,” he quickly corrected.

Dick sank back onto the couch.

“I shouldn’t give the bastard the time of day,” Crowley fumed. He leaned forward, really getting into it now. “He doesn’t respect me, Dick. Can I call you Dick? And he’s bad for business, you could say. My associates are dying to get their hands on him. But when they do, he kills them off! NO respect! And finding good help these days is hard, Dick!”

Dick pursed his lips, quietly studying the disgruntled client. “It sounds like this guy is bad news. Maybe you need to stay away from him.”

“What? DO I NOT DESERVE TO BE LOVED??”

“Of course, of course.” _Mommy issues,_ he tapped into his tablet. “But this guy sounds like a douche bag.”

Crowley rubbed his face with one hand as he thought about this. “You’re absolutely right. I’ll just do what I should have done ages ago. I’ll hex him. Love spell. Mother is somewhat of an expert.” He stood up, smoothed down the front of his suit, and headed for the door.

“That isn’t exactly a healthy solution, Mr. Crowley,” said a very confused Dick.

Crowley looked at Dr. Roman as if he were an afterthought. “Thank you, Dick. You’ve been very helpful. Most uplifting.”

Roman blinked and the guy was gone.

Whatever. He was still charging him for a full session.

*****

His next appointment showed up ten minutes early. His lovely assistant informed him that the guy looked positively guilty of something. Dr. Roman peeked into the waiting room. The guy was a moose. Not literally, of course, but he had to be at least six-four. He sat forward in his chair, rubbing his hands together, ready to bolt if someone looked at him sideways.

Dick retreated to his office and scrolled through the guy’s file. Sam. No last name. Paid ahead with a credit card. He listed his reason for seeking therapy as … unrequited love. Seemed to be a lot of that going around lately. Dick ordered his assistant to send him in.

“Make yourself comfortable, ah, Sam,” Dick instructed.

The guy looked at him nervously, obviously assessing the level of threat he represented. Apparently deciding that Dick was harmless, he took a seat in the plush chair Crowley had reluctantly occupied.

“Tell me about yourself, Sam,” Dick invited.

“I’m, uh, well, I’m here to talk about my brother.”

“I see.” _Projecting his own problems onto sibling,_ Dick keyed into his tablet. “And, uh, what sort of issues is your _brother_ having?”

“No, no, that’s not what I meant.” Sam cleared his throat. “I have feelings for my brother.”

Dick deleted his previous note. “What sort of feelings?”

“Well . . .” Sam sighed heavily. “It’s just that. . .”

“Please go on,” urged Dick.

“I kind of want to throw him onto the ground and fuck him into the next century.” He sighed again, looking positively miserable, and stared at Dick with impossible puppy eyes.

“You know, Sam, many people have sexual fantasies about a sibling at some point in their lives,” Dick consoled.

“I think about it constantly.”

Dick tapped on his tablet.

“Hey, what are you typing?” Sam demanded.

“Just notes,” Dick responded. “Tell me about your brother.”

Sam half-smiled. “He’s a tough son-of-a-bitch. Acts like he doesn’t need anybody but he’s got a heart of gold, you know?”

Dick nodded. “Go on.”

Sam glanced over his shoulder, as if making sure they were alone. He leaned forward and confided in Dick, “He got turned into a demon, which was terrifying of course, but also super hot. Am I going to hell again for thinking that?”

Dick felt his mouth drop, a definite no-no in therapy techniques, to be sure. He quickly slammed it shut. A demon? Wasn’t that what the last client, Crowley, had said? And what did he mean by going to hell _again_?

“By demon, you mean . . .?”

Sam looked at him like he swallowed an unwanted anchovy. “Demon. You know. Like from hell? There actually is a hell, Dick. Dean was there for months. I thought I’d lost him. I went a little bit off the rails back then.”

Dick nodded. “I see.” _This guy needs thorazine, not therapy_. “Dean, I assume, is your brother’s name?”

“Yeah. What’s wrong with me, Doc?”

“Have you had any previous relationships? With men or women you weren’t . . . related to?”

Sam sighed. “There was Jessica. She died. Horribly. It was my fault.”

 _Did he just confess to murder?_ Dick wondered incredulously. “Go on.”

“And Amelia. I gave her up to be with Dean." 

Dick furiously fingered his tablet.

“That’s it, isn’t it? The only constant in my life is my brother. Is that why I feel the way I do?”

Dick paused his typing. “I’m not sure yet, Sam -”

Sam sprung up from the chair. “That makes perfect sense! You’re been a lot of help, Dick! Thanks!”

And with that, he left, leaving a very dumbfounded Dick.

*****

When Dick didn’t follow Sam out, his assistant poked her head into the room. “Everything alright, Doctor?” she asked.

He looked up from where he sat, unmoving. “It’s been an interesting morning. Who’s my next client?”

“I’ve sent you the file.” She smiled and closed the door as she left.

He pulled up the file on his tablet and saw the guy’s name was Castiel. _Castiel?_ _That was a hell of a name to stick your kid with. This should be interesting._

Dick wondered if it was too early in the morning to have a drink.

Castiel showed up at 10 a.m. sharp. He wore a trench coat, which Dick thought was odd, since it was a warm summer day.

“You can hang your coat behind the door, if you like,” he offered.

Castiel looked confused. “Is the door cold?”

Dick blinked. “Let’s move on. Tell me why you’re here, Castiel.”

“We had an appointment.”

Dick bit his own tongue. “Yes. Tell me why you made the appointment.”

“Of course. I have this friend. We’ve been through a lot together. And I think I’ve fallen in love with him. But I’m not sure. I’ve never had this experience before, Dr. Roman.”

 _Finally,_ thought Dick. _A normal guy with a normal problem_.

“Call me Dick. How does he feel about you?” Dick asked.

“I’m not sure. I’m afraid he still sees me as a multidimensional wavelength of celestial intent.”

Dick drooped. So much for normal.

“Okay, uh, have you done anything to make him change his view of you?”

Castiel thought about it. “Well, there was this one time – but I wasn’t myself. I was somewhat out of my mind.”

Dick blinked. “Tell me what happened.”

“It was a beautiful moment, and I wanted to share it with Dean.”

Dick raised his eyebrows. “Did you say _Dean_?”

Cas looked at him, eyebrows wrinkled like a cat. “Yes, that’s his name. Anyway, I know now I should have called first. Instead I showed up on his car. Naked and covered in bees. I wanted to show him the majesty of nature.”

“That’s really awkward, Castiel.”

“I know,” Cas said sadly. “That’s what he said.”

“Does Dean know how you feel about him?” Dick asked.

“Maybe, but, I’m not sure Dean is into dick, Dick.”

Dick sat back in his chair. “I’ll tell you what, Cas. I think you should consider being honest with Dean about your feelings. Take him somewhere nice, feel him out. If the opportunity pops up, tell him how much you care for him.”

Cas took a deep breath. “Maybe you’re right, Dick. I’ll take him to a nice hotel. We’ll talk and then I’ll put my hand down his pants -”

Dick dropped his tablet onto the floor. It made a soft thump sound when it hit the carpet. “I didn’t say feel him _up_! I said feel him _out_! There’s a difference!”

Cas squinted at him with the crooked cat face again. “I guess I misunderstood.”

Dick picked up the tablet and tapped back into the correct file. Stifling a groan, he said wearily, “Just be yourself. Take it naturally. What I mean is don’t do anything he’s not comfortable with.” For the first time in his professional career, Dick felt like a blithering idiot.

Castiel stood up. “You’re right.  I will get him alone and we will talk. Thank you for your help, Dick.”

“My pleasure,” Dick said pleasantly, silently wondering if he should have become an accountant instead of a sex therapist.

As Castiel left, Dick decided it was definitely not too early for a drink. He walked down the hall to his office, planning to scan over his next client’s file while he sneaked a shot of whiskey from the bottom drawer of his desk.

He sat down in front of his computer, grabbed a glass and the bottle from the drawer, and pulled up his neck client’s file. He glanced at the screen as he poured the brown liquid into the glass, and saw that his next client’s name was... No friggin way. Dean? _Dean_?

Dick didn’t believe in coincidences. It had to be the same Dean the other clients had mentioned. Maybe this was a prank. Maybe one of his colleagues was pulling a joke on him. It would make sense.

Dick realized too late that he was still pouring the whiskey. It spilled out of the glass and onto his pants.

 _Great,_ he thought _. The last thing I need is to become known as Whiskey Dick._

He found the spare suit he kept in his office for such occasions and quickly changed. He took a swig from the bottle and went to meet with the infamous Dean.

*****

Dean was pacing back and forth from one cerulean blue wall to the other when Dick entered the room. He looked at Dick with a mixture of anger and despair that Dick had never quite seen before.

“Dean, I presume?” Dick asked. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“You friggin’ know me?” Dean asked suspiciously.

“Not exactly,” responded Dick. “I’ve, uh, heard of you.”

Dean grinned. “I am legendary.”

Dick gestured at the chair, and seated himself on the couch. “Tell me why you’re here, Dean.”

Dean sat on the chair. “It’s like this, Dick. I have these three, uh, admirers. They won’t leave me alone. I can’t even sleep at night, man, I can’t get away from these people.”

Dick grinned. _I knew it._ “I understand. Good looking guy like you. Bet you have guys fallin’ all over you.”

Dean looked at him closely. “Guys? Do I put off the gay vibe to you, dude?”

Dick looked at him, flabbergasted. “Uh, don’t you, I mean, do you, why don’t you tell me about your admirers?”

Dean leaned back, still giving Dick the hairy eyeball. “They’re these girls I met in a chat room. They’re uh, fans of my work.” Dean grinned and wiggled his eyebrows at Dick. “They know this guy Chuck, and they think . . . well, never mind. It’s complicated. But they text me constantly. I mean, at first it was flattering. But it’s gotten out of hand. I’m not really sure how to get rid of them.  I mean, I know how to _get rid_ of them, but I don’t wanna do something that drastic. What should I do, Dick?”

“Dean, would you like a drink?”

“ _What_? Isn’t that a little unorthodox?”

“I’ll be honest with you, Dean. I don’t have a clue how to solve your problems. I mean, you don't even know what all your problems are. To tell you the truth, I'm thinking I'll start doing tax returns for a living.”

Dean looked at him. “Then what am I doing here? You know, you’re a real dick, Dick.”

 

 

 

 


End file.
